


Dawned on Me

by yerbamansa



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Fluff, Guitars, M/M, One Shot, Singing, Song Lyrics, Songfic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-15
Updated: 2019-03-15
Packaged: 2019-11-18 08:42:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,159
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18117287
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yerbamansa/pseuds/yerbamansa
Summary: Patrick learns a new song.





	Dawned on Me

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently every song I love is kind of a sad song, but this one is almost a happy song? Anyway, this is self-indulgent as hell, but I don’t care.

One of Patrick’s new favorite things about quiet nights at home with David is when they can just do their own thing in each other’s company. David’s a surprisingly voracious reader—not just gossip and social media—so stops at the library to pick up his latest holds have become part of their routine. In the evenings, after dinner, he’ll prop himself up on the bed and be the calmest Patrick’s ever seen him. He loves this side of David.

He loves all the sides, but when he thinks about it, this one feels oddly, particularly good. Like they’ve gotten to the point that they don’t need to perform around each other.

If pressed, he thinks, they’d both admit they’ve never felt this comfortable. And David would probably say that’s sad.

Patrick doesn’t think it’s sad.

He’s using this time to work on music again. After that first open mic night, after things got serious, he found himself with less and less time to listen to the music _he_ liked, to work on his songs. So the quiet… it works. Once David settles in, he pops on the bulky, over-the-ear headphones that David teases him about, even though they were a gift _from David_. (He’d chosen a pair that were both aesthetically pleasing and recommended by the audiophile they worked with to install a better sound system in the store when they started hosting events regularly. They really did sound great.) Between the jazz they play at the store and David’s penchant for pop divas, Patrick appreciates the chance to listen to music of his choosing every once in a damn while.

Over the years, he’s had a music exchange with a few friends. They’d played together a bit in college and invited each other to shows—the smaller, the better. It was slightly competitive at times, trying to be the first to “discover” the next cool thing. It had evolved from swapping mix CDs to sharing Spotify playlists via Facebook, which no one wanted to admit was exceedingly uncool.

Patrick hasn’t kept up his end of the exchange lately; he hasn’t had time to listen to new stuff and they’d probably laugh if he told them to listen to Beyonce, though even he had to admit _Lemonade_ was phenomenal. But lately, as they’d settled into this comfortable routine, he found himself connecting with new music—well, new to him—like he did back in the day. He pulls up the playlist a friend sent over a week before, the one they named “Caught Feelings.”

“You guys are making fun of me now,” he murmurs, looking over the list of half-familiar names before pressing play. Maybe they are teasing him about his newfound bliss, but the songs _do_ have lovely, love-y lyrics, he admits, letting his mind wander as he listens.

After a few songs, an acoustic Jeff Tweedy solo catches his ear. He finds himself humming along, even though he only vaguely recalls hearing the song before. That hook!

> _I can’t help it / if I fall in / love with you again_
> 
> _I’m calling / just to let you / know it dawned on me_

Patrick squints and listens harder, then googles the lyrics. Oh, these are nice. The song ends and before the next track can begin, he plays it again, this time singing under his breath. The song doesn’t sound too tough to play, either. He can pick out some chords, but looks up some tabs, just in case, before getting up to retrieve his guitar.

That’s when David perks up. He doesn’t say anything, just quietly looks up from his book. Patrick doesn’t notice; he’s busy tuning his guitar, angled slightly away from the bedroom. By the time he starts playing some chords, David’s placed a bookmark and set the book aside. Having a boyfriend who is _actually musically gifted_ is still novel to him, and he hasn’t had many chances yet to watch him work on a song. It’s worlds apart from his mother’s process (to say nothing of Alexis): so reserved and focused. David just wants to soak it in.

Patrick, not wanting to disturb David, is trying to sing and strum quietly.

> _I’ve been young / I’ve been old_
> 
> _I’ve been hurt / and consoled_
> 
> _Heart of cold / heart of gold / so I’m told_

David smiles warmly.

> _I’ve been lost / I’ve been found_
> 
> _I’ve been taken / by the sound / of my own voice_
> 
> _Voices in my head_
> 
> _I can’t help it / if I fall in / love with you again_
> 
> _I’m calling / just to let you / know it dawned on me_

Patrick happens to glance over between verses and finally realizes David’s been watching him. Listening. He shoots him a bashful smile and keeps going, even though now it’s a little bit of a performance.

> _Every night / is a test_
> 
> _To the East / or the West / the sun rises and sets_
> 
> _That’s the sun / at its best_

Patrick averts his eyes for the next line and doesn’t look up until the hook.

> _I forget / that I know / I regret letting you go_
> 
> _Sometimes / I can’t believe / how dark it can be_
> 
> _I can’t help it / if I fall in / love with you again_
> 
> _I’m calling / just to let you / know it dawned on me_
> 
> _Dawned on me_

David feels tears welling in the corners of his eyes. He gets up to sit closer to Patrick as he picks at an instrumental bridge.

> _So on / and so forth_
> 
> _And again / I will start / to begin at the end_
> 
> _I can’t help it / if I fall in / love with you again_
> 
> _I’m calling / just to let you / know it dawned on me_

Patrick finishes the song as David takes a comfortable seat on the other end of the sofa. He releases his left hand from the frets and smiles over at David.

“That’s a new one,” David says.

“New to me, too.”

“You played it beautifully.” David thinks everything he plays is beautiful, despite himself.

Patrick stands up to put his guitar back on its stand in the corner and closes his laptop before cozying up to David. “Well, thank you.” He leans against David’s warm chest and gazes up at those deep brown eyes, still slightly moist with unexpected tears.

David does the natural thing and kisses him.

“Was that from one of your friend playlist things?”

Patrick laughed. “It was. I didn’t think you were listening when I told you about that.”

“I listen! And I think you’re going to want to thank them.”

“Oh?”

“Mmhmm. But not yet.” David gets a look in his eyes that’s unmistakable to Patrick, who follows his boyfriend to bed.

“I had no idea acoustic Americana did it for you, David,” Patrick tries to tease.

David flicks off the living room lights and pulls Patrick into his arms for a soft, long kiss. _When you’re playing, it does_ , he thinks, but doesn’t have to say.

Their quiet routine ends early that evening.

**Author's Note:**

> Lyrics are Wilco's "Dawned on Me," specifically Jeff Tweedy's solo acoustic version off Together At Last, which you can hear on [YouTube](https://youtu.be/e4fPEkXHnDY).
> 
> I'm on Tumblr @yerbamansa. Thanks for reading.


End file.
